In Which Bakura Learns A Lot About Marik, But More About Himself
by K1t K4tty
Summary: Marik takes a shower and leaves his computer unattended. Bakura notices. Abridged-verse, Thiefshipping fluff.


**AN: This story takes place in the Marik Plays Bloodlines universe of the Abridged-verse, where I assume Bakura and Marik live together, plot schemes, and play video games. It also heavily references episode five of Marik plays Bloodlines (Paranormal Cracktivity), so I suggest watching it before or during your read.**

**Anyway, I'm done wasting your time, please no flames and I own nothing except a small cat who lived in the dump.**

"BAKURAAA!"

The smarmy, white-haired Brit startled slightly at the sudden shout, nearly spilling his cup of tea. He sighed and set his partially unread copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_ aside, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sat up on the couch, "Yes, Marik?"

"I'm going to take a shower! You can't stay as sexy as me without proper hygiene, you know." The nasal voice of the Egyptian responded, before he dramatically- for Marik rarely did anything that wasn't dramatic- pushed the chair out from under the desk and stormed to the bathroom.

"I'm using your computer to check my e-mails," Bakura said, getting up from the couch and taking his tea to the desk.

"Don't you dare touch my computer, Bakura!" Marik yelled from the bathroom as the water started to run.

Bakura rolled his eyes and checked his e-mails anyway. Then, just to spite Marik, he propped his feet up on the desk, relaxed into the chair with his tea, and proceeded to root through all of Marik's accounts and files. After a long while of finding nothing, and concluding Marik was a bit boring, he spotted it. A single file innocuously hidden amongst a cluster of the boring ones. A file placed so perfectly in plain sight that if you weren't looking for it, you wouldn't have even noticed it.

It was titled "Not My Secret Thiefshipping Folder."

Slowly, Bakura took his feet down from the desk and took drink of tea as he studied it, "He can't really be _that_ stupid… Can he?"

Bakura clicked on the file.

Apparently, Marik could, in fact, be that stupid. Bakura's eyes widened as he leaned forward, scrolling through the pictures of him and Marik. A bright red blush rose to his cheeks, but his trademark smirk still unfurled across his face as he thought of all the ways he could blackmail Marik. With this, Marik would be at his mercy. With this-

"Bakura! Is Egyptian Cotton really from Egypt?" Bakura jumped a little as Marik emerged from the bathroom, a towel ruffling over his soaking blonde hair and dangling in his face, a royal purple robe tied loosely at the waist to expose his midriff, and long purple pajama pants. "Because if it's not, they really should-"

The towel finally came from over his face and Marik realized the scene in front of him. He stopped, mouth still half open, hands still pushing the towel back. Bakura sighed quietly, disappointed he'd been found out so quickly, then finished his tea, set the cup down, stood calmly and pushed the chair back under the desk.

"So, Marik," he began, his voice even, as if this was a normal conversation, "is there anything you want to tell me?"

"N-No…!" Marik took a few uneasy steps back as Bakura strolled towards him, the towel falling to the floor in his clumsy nervousness.

Bakura was in no hurry, "Oh, really? So, I suppose those were the ghost's pictures on your computer?"

Marik's face burned bright red and he refused to look Bakura in the eyes, "Well… Uh…"

His back hit the wall behind him and he shrunk back against it as much as he could. Bakura bore down on him like a predator approaching his prey. He pressed his hands to the wall on either side of Marik's not unimpressive midriff, ensuring there would be no escape, "So, Marik, are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

"I admit it… I'm gay," the Egyptian mumbled, giving in.

"And…?"

"I like men."

"And…?"

"I like men's bottoms."

"And…?"

"Bu-But you saw the pictures," Marik almost whimpered, "what else is there?"

Bakura just lifted a brow as if expecting something else, just a little curious as to what Marik might admit to if pressed.

Marik scrunched up his face, then blurted, "I love you, Bakura!"

"Hunh?!" Bakura took a startled step back, blood rushing to his cheeks. "You-Wha-?"

Marik cocked his head to the side, finally looking at Bakura, "I thought the pictures made it obvious."

"Well- I- Uh-" Bakura's voice stuttered as much as his brain. Sure, while the pictures in the file were incriminating, he had just assumed Marik had a wayward schoolgirl- like crush or that the pictures were an outlet for his fervently denied sexuality. But, love?!

Then he turned it over in his head. He and Marik lived together and during that time they had become quite close, Marik's insistence at calling him for the most minor of problems was evidence of that. Bakura himself had never bothered to hide his interest in Marik due to the Egyptian's impossibly thick head, but with the sudden realization that his interest might be reciprocated, he felt a small stab of fear. His come-ons and taunts had started as nothing more than trying to get a rise out of the Egyptian, but had they started to go deeper? Somewhere along the line had the teasing become more than just teasing?

In that quiet moment between Marik's surprising confession, his inarticulate response and Marik's next words Bakura was forced to face a terrifying reality. He loved Marik, too.

"So…?" Marik prompted after a quiet moment making Bakura actually flinch.

"So, what?" Bakura said, quite proud his words were coherent.

"Do you, y'know… Love me back?"

"Well- I suppose- I hate you less than everyone else," Bakura mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away, clearly flustered.

Marik grinned, seeing his opening, "C'mon, Fluffy, I think it's fairly obvious that you find me overwhelmingly sexy."

"I never said-"

"You didn't need to," Marik suddenly stepped far into Bakura's personal space, "but it wouldn't hurt."

Bakura damned those shining violet eyes and the slight pleading look on Marik's face, then ground out, "Fine. I love you…"

"What?" Marik cupped a hand behind his ear, "I didn't quite catch that."

"I love you."

"Oh, I missed it, one more time."

"I bloody love you, Marik Bloody Ishtar!" Bakura shouted, at his breaking point.

A brilliant smile lit up Marik's face and he tossed his arms around Bakura's neck, twining his fingers in the soft, white hair. After a moment, Bakura smiled secretly and wrapped his arms around Marik's slim waist, burying his face in soft blonde hair.

"But, I swear, Marik, if you even mention this to anyone, I'll-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you'll threaten to do something graphically horrible to me, and then never follow through. Face it, you could never hurt this face."

"Mhn." Bakura grunted, because it was true and he didn't like it one bit.

"Going soft, Fluffy?"

"Never."

Marik chuckled and pressed his lips lightly against Bakura's. It was sweet and clumsy and perfect and awkward and everything a first kiss should be. And short. Too short in Bakura's opinion, so he ran his hand up Marik's back and captured the nape of his neck, pulling their mouths together again. Their second kiss was longer, and deeper, and when air became a concern, they kissed a little longer. They finally broke apart with light gasps, glanced at each other, then erupted into a small fit of laughter at the sheer absurdity of everything. Them? Kissing? It was too much.

They broke their embrace and Bakura went to the couch while Marik seated himself back at the desk. He swiveled the chair, "This doesn't change anything, Fluffy. We're still going to defeat the Pharaoh."

"Of course."

"And I'm still running the show."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Marik deigned to ignore that comment and pressed on as if it hadn't been spoken, "And since I am running the show, I've decided tonight is date night."

Bakura burst into another fit of laughter, "Date night? Really? Are we going to dress up and go out to a fancy dinner and talk about our feelings?"

Marik's face burned a little at the ridicule, but he tilted up his chin imperiously and spoke through his partner's- boyfriend's?- chuckles, "No, I was thinking we order in a pizza and watch _Cannibal Holocaust_."

He got up from his chair and walked purposefully over to the no longer guffawing Bakura. He placed his hands against the couch on either side of Bakura's fluffy head, leaning tantalizingly close, "And there will be decidedly little talking."

Despite the cherry blush rushing all the way to his ears, Bakura tried to keep an aura of nonchalance, shrugging his shoulders and averting his eyes from the glittering amethyst irises piercing into him, "Sounds okay, I suppose."

Marik rolled his eyes, he knew Bakura would be hard to impress. However as he folded himself neatly into Bakura's lap and the white haired teen pulled him close, he decided it wouldn't be nearly as hard as he'd thought.

**A/N:**** Well, there you go. My first Thiefshipping fic. Sorry if it sucked or if anyone was OOC, but I had the idea and it wouldn't let me rest until I had written it down.**

**Thank you for your time!**

**Have a Great Day!**

**K1t K4tty**


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